Grounded
by PleasePleaseDon'tKillMe
Summary: Edwin has always dreamed of flight, but he is destined to remain on the ground. After nearly destroying his family, Edwin must learn how to live in a world full of magic. Unlike his wizard brothers who can reach the sky, perhaps a squib's limit is among the leaves of the family maple tree.


Grounded

By

Pleasepleasedon'tkillme

(Those words never work)

Disclaimer: I wish I had J.K. Rowling's money, success, and talent. But alas, I do not. Bummer.

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Great white clouds moved across the azure sky, unhurried. Lying on his bed of grass, Edwin watched his brothers play, reckless and daredevil among the flitting birds. One of them flew upside down, executing a loop. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the wind rushing against his face, and pretended he was flying on a broom.

The large red ball his brothers were tossing flew through the arms of one of the boys. Edwin stood and ran toward where he projected it would land. He held out his arms, ready to catch it. A blur swept the ball from the air seconds before it fell into Edwin's hands.

His oldest brother circled behind him, slowing his broom to a stop and hovering in front of him.

"Nice try." His grin was amiable. His eyes stared at a spot above Edwin's head.

Edwin spun and saw his other brother holding two fingers up, creating bunny ears.

"Stop it, Bobby." Edwin swatted his hand away.

"Come on, I'm just playing with you." A mischievous light shone in Bobby's eyes.

The oldest brother glared at Bobby. "Stop teasing him."

"Whatever." Bobby rolled his eyes and flew among the stretching limbs of the maple tree the three had played beneath when they were younger. When they were equal.

"Sam, do you think I could ride with you on your broom? Behind you or something?" Edwin felt awkward asking, but he wanted to experience the euphoria they felt while flying. Soon, he would be too heavy to be taken on a broom, too old.

Sam hesitated. His hair was gold in the sun and he ruffled it at the crown as he always did when uncomfortable.

"I don't think that will work," he did not meet Edwin's eyes. "Sorry."

Edwin looked away and nodded, disappointed.

"Maybe we can do something later," Sam suggested. "What's that sport you said you liked? Football?"

Edwin faked a smile. "That sounds great."

Bobby careened over to them and pulled his broom sideways in a jerking halt. "Come on Sam, you've got the ball."

Sam threw the ball to him. "Now you have it."

Bobby caught the red sphere. "Hey Eddie, catch." He threw the ball high in the air towards his younger brother.

Edwin watched the ball arc, moving with it.

Before he reached it, Bobby sped forward to catch it. He juggled the ball between his hands. "Come on, you have to be quicker than that."

Edwin swatted the leg dangling in front of him. "Stop it."

"Tell you what," Bobby proposed. "If you can get it, you can play with us." He flew lower, within Edwin's reach.

Edwin crossed his arms. "No. I know what you're doing."

Bobby darted behind him and gave him a painful pinch to the small of his back.

"Ow!" Edwin tried to hit Bobby, but he dodged him and flew at him again. Edwin ducked out of his way and ran to the base of the tree, where his slingshot lay.

"Bobby, leave him alone." Sam yelled after them.

Bobby flicked the back of Edwin's head.

Edwin grabbed his slingshot and a rock and took a wild shot at Bobby. He missed. The second found its target.

Bobby stopped snickering and flew higher, where he hoped to be out of reach.

Edwin shot again.

Bobby cried out in pain and clutched his hands to his face. His body pitched forward and his hands scrambled to find the broom handle again.

The world was still, save for the flailing figure falling to the ground.

Sam pointed his wand and screamed a word Edwin had never heard, making the boy's fall slow until he hovered above the ground, terrified.

Edwin's feet were rooted to the ground and his stomach churned as he watched Sam run toward Bobby and help him down, muttering soothing words Edwin could not discern.

A crack like a gunshot echoed in the yard when an envelope appeared in the air before Sam. He opened it with trembling fingers, his skin pale in the sunlight.

"I have a court hearing for using underage magic," He turned to his dazed brother. "Let's go inside and get you cleaned up."

Edwin watched him play the part of the strong older brother, but he could see the anxiety Sam hid when he furrowed his eyebrows and ducked his head before entering the house.

He stared at the white wooden siding of the home he had lived in his entire life. Now, it felt unwelcoming and he dared not enter. When his mother leaned out the door and called for him to come inside, his feet obeyed, bringing him into the shadow of the house. He was relieved to find the kitchen empty, save for his mother, who sat at the table.

Edwin sat across from her and stared at the polished wood separating them.

Her long fingers tapped the table. "Sam told me what happened."

Silence pressed against his throat, suffocating.

"He told me what Bobby was doing. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The tapping stopped.

Edwin scuffed the floor with his shoe, trying to fill the void left by the sound of her fingers. "I didn't think he would get hurt."

"I know you didn't mean to, but you can't shoot rocks at people and expect them not to get hurt," Her voice grew sharper. "He could have died."

"I didn't mean to," His voice rose in pitch. "I figured since they can use magic, he wouldn't get hurt."

"I understand it's hard not being magical." She said in a softer voice.

"No," he cut her off. "You don't. Everyone else in the family can use magic except me and it's not fair."

He heard how childish he sounded, but pressed on. "They get to go off to school and I stay here," he waved his arm at the moving pictures on the wall and the dishes levitating in the air being scoured. "I can't even invite my friends over because none of them even know it exists. Then when Sam and Bobby come home, all they do is play quidditch and I'm stuck on the ground watching them."

She pursed her lips. "We'll talk about that later, but right now we're discussing what you did."

Edwin slumped in his chair.

His mother leaned forward and closed the distance Edwin had made between them. "You knew what you did was wrong and you did it anyway," her words were firm. "You're grounded for the next month. If you step one toe out of line you'll be grounded from football too."

"Fine," his voice was flat. "Can I go upstairs?"

"No," her voice lost its edge. "You need to apologize to your brother and then we have to go to the ministry tomorrow for Sam's hearing. You're going to have to testify there."

His stomach tightened. Though he could not use magic, he knew the consequences of using it when underage, if found guilty of being reckless, Sam's wand would be snapped and he would be expelled. Edwin would be responsible for ruining the life of the brother he had always idolized.

His mother turned in her chair and called for Bobby to come downstairs.

Heavy footsteps announced his descent from his room. The skin on his left cheek was red and swollen and a small cut had stopped bleeding. Two inches higher and the rock would have taken out his eye.

Their mother looked at Edwin expectantly.

He sighed. "I'm sorry I hit you with rocks. I didn't mean for you to get hurt." The words were difficult to say, but sincere.

Bobby mumbled his acceptance and an apology of his own, never meeting Edwin's eyes.

Edwin excused himself from the table. On the stairway, he heard Bobby ask their mother why she wouldn't heal his cheek.

"Because you earned it." She never coddled them. "Don't even think about getting your father to heal it, either."

Edwin shut the door to his bedroom, blocking out the remaining sound of their conversation. He kicked off his shoes and lay on his bed. His room looked like a muggle boy's room, like most of his friends' rooms, except people waved to him from their picture frames. His brother's rooms had posters of quidditch players scoring goals or dodging bludgers. The poster of the football player on his wall furrowing his sweaty brow and kicking a ball was stationary. Edwin wished he could see if the player had scored or not, like he could in magical pictures.

He stared at the ceiling and fell into a fitful sleep with dreams of wizards executing Sam and then Edwin. He stood outside his body and watched his head roll away from his body, cut off by the guillotine.

The next morning he stood beside his mother and brothers touching an old boot. He had traveled by portkey before and closed his eyes when he felt the hook around his navel hurtling him through the air. His feet slammed to the ground and he opened his eyes, looking at the noisy entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic where wizards and witches hurried to work in robes and stepped out of fireplaces after the flames glowed green.

Their mother guided them toward the lifts. The temperature dropped with the elevator. The hallway they stepped into was dark and windowless, only unforgiving stone could be seen in the dim candlelight. A doorway led them to a waiting room with a bored receptionist.

Their mother walked before the desk. "We have a nine o'clock hearing for Samuel Turner."

"You'll be called in briefly." The receptionist flicked her wand and a paper airplane sailed into the other room, as slow and lazy as she was.

The family sat in musty padded chairs. Edwin fidgeted with his tie and Sam's face was pale as he ran his fingers over his wand, the polished wood comforting and cherished.

Bobby looked sullen. He poked at his cheek, wincing yet unable to stop touching it.

Only their mother appeared calm, her face was cool and blank. Edwin thought she looked like she could wrestle a troll and walk away without any indication an altercation had occurred.

"Samuel Turner." The attendant's voice made Edwin jump.

The man held the door while they entered a cavernous chamber with vaulted ceilings and closed it with a brusque snap that echoed in the room, saying the hearing was unimportant, there were many more cases scheduled for that day.

Edwin and Bobby sat in the empty rows of wooden seats and Sam and their mother sat at a table facing a man on a pedestal. He alone would decide the fate of the boy before him.

"Samuel Turner," he read, his jowls quivering as he spoke. "You have been charged with the use of underage magic on the day of June 10, 2012. Should you wish to appeal, your statement will be heard at this time."

He lifted his dull eyes. "Do you wish to appeal?"

"We do." Their mother's firm voice rang in the empty room.

"Then a statement from the perpetrator is required, followed by any additional witnesses."

Samuel looked at their mother, unsure whether he should speak. At her nod, he cleared his throat.

"If I hadn't used magic, my brother probably would have died." His words were disconnected and hesitant.

The man raised his bushy gray eyebrows. "Explain."

Edwin ducked his head in shame as Sam told the events of the previous day.

"I see," the man wrote a note on the parchment on the pulpit. "Are there any witnesses who wish to testify?"

"Yes," even intimidation did not take away Bobby's brashness. "I was very high in the air and I couldn't have stopped my fall. I would have landed face first."

The man looked at Bobby over his spectacles. "That was a testimony by Bobby Turner?" He was annoyed the order of proceedings had been broken.

Bobby sat and replied with a meek nod.

"Are there any further testimonies?" The question was louder, asserting who was in control.

Edwin nodded his head. "Yes."

The man fixed his gaze on Edwin. "What is your name?"

"Edwin Turner." He was unsure if his words were loud enough to reach the man.

"Proceed." The man commanded.

"Sam shouldn't be punished. It was all my fault," he looked at his brother, who had turned toward Edwin in his seat. "I was mad because I can't use magic like they can, and then Bobby started teasing me by flying around me."

Bobby shuffled his feet.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," he looked at Bobby, pleading for his forgiveness. "I really didn't.

Please don't punish Sam for what I did, if he hadn't used magic, Bobby wouldn't be here."

Edwin sat and the silence in the room was broken only by the man's quill scratching against the parchment.

The man drew a large breath. "Samuel Turner, I hereby withdraw the charges brought against you."

He lowered his head and glared at Edwin over his spectacles. "However, should I find your youngest brother in this room again, I will not be as gracious to him."

"It seems you are more dangerous as a squib than you would have been as a wizard," He tilted his head upwards and looked down his nose at Edwin. "You need to accept your place in the world."

"His place is at home, which we really must get back to," his mother stood. "Thank you for your graciousness." Her words were icy knives.

She put an arm around Edwin and the family left the man and his judgment room.

When they got home, Edwin went upstairs to his room, the man's words repeating in his head, further confirmation of his abnormality. He looked at the smiling pictures of his family, his parents trying to smile at the camera while keeping a young Bobby in place long enough to take the picture. The moving photographs contained more magic than Edwin would ever have. The piece of paper was more useful in the wizarding world than he was.

He collected all the pictures in the room and shoved them in the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Edwin was glad the football player could not move in his picture. He searched for his football and found a second hand toy wand from when he was young. When it was assumed he would be a wizard. Its finish was worn away at the handle from years of use and dreaming. He buried the wand beneath the pictures. All daydreams must end.

He found his football under his bed and went outside. Though he could not go to practices, he could still improve his skills in the backyard.

His brothers were getting out their brooms despite the calamity of the previous day.

"Hey Eddie," Sam called across the yard to him. "Do you want to ride on my broom with me?" The enthusiasm in his voice was strained, though he wanted to include Edwin, having two on a broom was awkward and slow.

Edwin watched Bobby mount his broom and zoom into the air. For years, Edwin had dreamed of playing quidditch with his brothers. Now, the idea was as ridiculous as muggles thought magic was. He watched his brother fly and realized that there was no place for him in the sky. No place in their world.

"No," he said to Sam. "I belong on the ground."

He dropped the football and began his drills, his feet pivoting and pushing against the ground as he kicked the ball, controlling its path on the grass.

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please check out my other story, _Mise En Place_, which is novel-length instead of a short story. I do ask that you take a few moments of your time and review. It is helpful and keep authors writing the stories you love to read!


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